


A average morning of The Young Ones told through the senses

by Postsynthcomrade5



Category: The Young Ones (TV 1982)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Gen, Short, Short One Shot, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 15:20:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15975047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Postsynthcomrade5/pseuds/Postsynthcomrade5





	A average morning of The Young Ones told through the senses

I’m tired it’s been a long day what faces surround me in the student house which I stay

I see the tall wannabe anarchist I know, he’s wearing a grey shirt with his sleeves rolled up

Usually covered by a black jacket decorated in badges with jeans or a yellow pair of dungarees

His head has short pigtails and sometimes a red communist esque beret

Hearing red boots squeak on the floor he runs on  a few spots on his face but despite that he’s quite handsome he shouts about politics or who stole the rest of the cereal that morning at least he’s not like one of the others who, to be honest, is a bit boring

I smell lentils, perfume and a smudge of makeup and the milk spilt during an argument when he was fed up.

I taste the remains of cereal left on the table or the ones that are still editable

I feel the spoon as I scoop up what’s left to eat and the pigtails of him where all he tastes is defeat

I try to grasp them but I don’t actually touch him he’s too busy shouting at Vyvyan

he's the tall punk metalhead I know, he’s wearing a Misfits shirt under his stained battle jacket

unphased is his face, jeans and the doc martens on his feet his spiky hair a bright orange

Out of all the pranks, he's pulled could he not leave his old takeaway in the fridge

he’s grabbing the other person by the throat but with not too much force he is a medical student of course

I hear him shout his gravely raspy voice shoving spit into my face

I see him dash out and back in holding a chainsaw menacingly with a devious grin

I hear him flick it on as he chased the other around the house while we tag along

I smell cologne, tobacco, sweat, and milk ugh Vyv could you’ve cleaned the chainsaw before using it look at the filth

I fill water from the sink which I give to him the cold weather made him feel a little sick

I feel his face as he sneezes handing him a tissue when he placed his hand over mine

His hand is freezing cold mine is like a Bunsen burner he stops his maniacal laughter for a second as he listens to my “calm down” suggestion he makes a small smile

Vyv normally smirks and snarls you don’t usually see him  smile, it was nice to see that even if it was just for a while.

I see another tall bloke he moves more mellow his appearance like a 60s activist flower power green and yellow

His hair long and like a member of Pink Floyd, I hear his trainers crunch as he cleans the corn flake crumbs off the floor

I smell the incense he placed by the window I taste test the soup for vyv that he made

I touch the spoon and the sleeve of his green sweater could this chaotic morning get any better?

Walking downstairs a short man passing by the tv

I see his teddy bear covered pyjamas and dark shades, the Elvis like gangster aesthetic he’s trying to capture just don’t ask about his side business and what so-called watches he decides to manufacture

I hear him ask about  the commotion,I was ignoring his lie about getting a “promotion” I smell his hairspray, taste a candy bar on the counter and shake his hand as he tries to console a Vyvyan whose trying to stop vomiting,a Rick putting on a plaster, a Neil watering the plants a Mike who is now turning on the tv and who is the long-haired emo describing their surroundings like victorian poetry Hi I’m the 5th roommate Kelsey~


End file.
